Blunt Objects
by NanaMun
Summary: "Don't think of this as the end of the world," he tells me, "think of this as Human Devolution" *HALLOWEEN SPECIAL*


**Halloween Special!**

**Characters not owned by me.**

**Blunt Objects  
**

It started with a new flu.

I know, isn't that the case with most situations?

Well, not this exactly.

It wasn't really an infection or some sort of toxic spill over at a cemetery.

It really was some absurd response to the rapidly spreading sickness taking over the north western hemisphere of the globe. It was SARS all over again, just not as lamely overplayed in fear. This time around, people were smarter. All you needed was lots of liquids, rest and the big fight was left up to your body to handle naturally.

But there were still those out there, apparently 30% of the US's population felt wasn't enough and _still_ flocked to clinics for the new vaccine that apparently rid the virus in under two days.

We thought it was a bit peculiar.

It was nothing short of a miracle to everyone else.

Edward interned with his father down at the Forks hospital, thus was how we had the heads up that this little miracle scientist had concocted was...not.

And how could 100 or so smart men and women not know this?

Easy.

They were FUCK stupid.

But I'm not going to complain about this now. The point of the matter is, something happened. The vaccine mutated after 24 hours in the human body when it was face-to-face with the virus.

Yeah, the virus was gone, but a hell of a big problem was beginning.

First, there was what Edward cleverly titled the 'Pre-mortis, rigor mortis.' Well, not so clever, but fucking funny when you've just been chased by a zed and you need something to cheer you up. So what happened was the vaccine initiated some chemical reaction to where patients suddenly loss oxygen in their muscles. ATP (whatever the hell that was) wasn't made and the bodies stiffened before losing function all together. It wasn't like 1/3 of the country was playing freeze tag. The problem was isolated to certain muscles. Some people had minor problems, like a forearm or a toe and others had ass muscles and neck muscles completely rigid. Now, there is obviously a disease for muscles going rigid _while_ alive, but I'm not done yet.

What followed was rotting flesh.

Then the pallor of skin.

Afterwards, brain chemical reactions went wonky. People stared into space or just fell over in seizures.

Then the cardiac arrests happened.

"It's like dying backwards." Edward told me.

**xXx**

"Don't think of this as the end of the world," He tells me, "Think of this as a Human Devolution." I forget just how much Edward was a nerd when things were normal.

I'm not lying when I say the first thing Edward did when he found out what happened was drive to Walmart to get a machete.

No guns. No grenades. A machete.

Oh, and a machete harness.

There's slamming, shuffling and the occasional grunt. He's organizing again.

"A week, and you're a prophet." I roll my eyes, sitting back on his father's fine leather sofa. His parents chose quite the fortress in this tiny town. The iron gates, wide lawns and high structure. It was like a damn mansion.

But Edward warned me of _Resident Evil_ and _Diary of the Dead_. A big house didn't mean anything when you were din-din.

Oh, did I forget to mention something?

This virus left many so brain-dead they couldn't walk, but a lot of them could, and occasionally run. It really depended on their immunity to the botched vaccine. But what remained the same, was they needed sustenance. If it was a puppy, good. A deer, great. You, even better. That's right. All those zombie movies and RPG games were mere preparations for the real thing.

I hate to say no one has the clever names of their destinations - Port Angeles, Seattle or fucking Portland for that matter. We keep our names and we don't leave our homes. It's too comforting. There is the occasional looting and we had heard of some people being murdered, but for the most part, us alive folk stick together. These fuckers come out of nowhere and they bite, _hard. _And yes, in case you're wondering, the infection spreads. So the most sane thing to do is stick to the places you know, and the people you trust.

"When is your dad coming home?" I ask, going through a two month old magazine that'll never make up for the year long subscription. The hospitals are a bloodbath, we both know that, but there are a few doctors left in this town and although all connections are cut outside the state, there's still this _hope_ with people. About 50% of the population is dead in Forks - not bad for an apocalyptic week, but that percentile was offered merely a few days ago. The chances of that increasing 20% isn't at all an impossibility.

I can't think of my parents now.

Edward was lucky. His entire family survived, annoying sister and powerfully massive brother included. But my small family, my hard-ass father and gentle, southern mother didn't see it coming. They were both sick with the flu, both vaccinated. I saw the symptoms first hand. And when Edward came home that night, a bewildered look in his eyes as he replayed the patients dropping like flies before reanimation, I knew what was waiting for me at my parent's.

Edward hadn't told me that night, but I could see just how thankful he was that I stayed in Forks with him for another semester before re-applying to UW. Seattle was worst off than a small town. More people, more casualties.

In that small apartment on the edge of town, we packed our bags, his machete included and cried our way all the way home - well, to his massive manor, that is.

His family was smart enough to recover from the flu an easier way.

"Gushers?" Edward can read my mind, I know it. He's watching me like a hawk as I thumb through the magazine with a look of disinterest. We hadn't spoken about my parents, but he knows that despite being happy that I'm safe in this fortress, I'm scared and alone in some odd way.

Gushers used to be our vice when things were normal. Our joke was if someone cut us, the sticky colorful goo would have been what bled out, but now that Edward is all Doctor smart and shit, we can't joke like that anymore. He'd give me shit about oxygen, bone marrow and the circulatory system. It was a fucking buzz kill. But it doesn't take away the fact that we still love Gushers.

The day after the whole walking dead debacle, his parents - like the rest of other residents in the damn town - went shopping. Edward had to fight tooth and nail with a 10 year old for the last stock of Gushers. For the end of the world, this felt more like an old Stooges comedy. Everything was so oddball and ridiculous. People fighting over Gushers and oranges, buying machetes and some even pretending nothing was happening at all. The electricity in the town was due off any time now. Luckily for Edward, his parents always thought ahead. They had one hell of a generator, but that wouldn't last us forever.

"Sure." I nod. He tosses me an entire box. Watermelon. My favorite.

"He should be home by twilight."

I scowl at him, "You can't just say by nightfall?" I'm annoyed with staying in this house, looking at expensive paintings, a baby grand piano and useless flat screen TVs, that'll serve no purpose in a few days.

"It sounds sexier." He jokes. I'm reminded on why I stayed in Forks for an extra six months. Before all of this, I was overwhelmed with the knowledge that Edward was...someone I loved.

Not like a brother.

Not like a friend.

It was deeper than that and I was just on the cusp of coming to terms as to what it was when suddenly he was on our doorstep, blood splattered on his chest, explaining everything, stopping the world.

I think I forgot about that night, when he held me to him as I cried like a child, knowing I couldn't go home, couldn't face what happened. Edward was sure that every patient that went through the symptoms suffered the cardiac arrest before suddenly sitting up a moving around, though with less of a hop to their step. More of a...drag.

I wish I can focus on these feelings now, but the world is pretty much getting shit on and the last thing I want to do is be kicked out of this prison because my best friend knows I admittedly find him beautiful and perfect.

"What do you say to a movie?" Edward asks, completely unfazed by the events that has been happening. It didn't take long for him to recover. I always thought he handled things a bit better than I did anyway.

"Sure." I shrug and he's back in the room, looking through a line of DVDs in their bookcase, before making up his mind. He pops a DVD in and falls down next to me on the couch. an arm casually falls across the back of the couch, behind my back. The menu starts up and as the images and sounds sinks in, I turn to him, a look of bewilderment on my face, I'm sure.

"_28 Days Later_?" I bellow and he just..shrugs.

"Research." He mumbles, but I know he's lying. Before things were fucked, he actually watched this every chance he got. It was one of his favorite movies, but I was almost certain he'd be like any other normal person and want to steer clear from any horror movies, let alone anything about the rage induced people spewing blood and clawing out your eyes.

The walking dead is outside his manor, and he puts in a zombie flick.

**xXx**

We've encountered _them _before. Mrs. Newton, such a nice woman, whose kind blue eyes were now hallowed death orbs. Her brain, once so pretty in her head, painted the front of Edward's Volvo. This is what happened when were driving to his parent's. I wish I could say it was as funny as _Shaun of the Dead. _Knocking over an older gentleman, before having his friend Ed roll them back, only to realize that what they hit was a mangled zombie.

"Oh, thank God for that." Shaun said and I remember laughing so hard, I was crying.

When we hit Mrs. Newton, I only cried. Edward had been driving and he didn't hesitate to stick her.

He would have exclaimed a hearty "10 points!" like Mike Epps, but instead, he looked at me in apology. He knew that there was a chance my mother could have made it outside, wandered in her dead state. Perhaps she was hit by a Volvo as well.

Anything was better than a semi.

I prayed then that Mike was either dead like them or somewhere safe. I never liked him. In all honesty, I thought he was a Grade A cum-hole, but I didn't dislike him enough to make his mom roadkill.

The second zom that faced annihilation by me had pushed into the iron gate when it had opened to let his father's car in. We were waiting in the driveway when I noticed.

This one was a runner.

Edward's family were too liberal to believe in guns, buy my father wasn't. Born and raised in Texas, he taught me how to shoot a rifle at 7, a revolver at 8, a glock at 9 and a shotgun at 10. Edward didn't stock up on guns, but I did. I needed close range with the shotgun. He wasn't much of a few feet away, before Edward was pulling me back, ordering to get back in the house. I fired and took pleasant satisfaction seeing his skull open up real pretty.

I enjoyed it for a few seconds, before I was spitting up gushers and Cheeto's on their kept lawn. I didn't know this one, but he had been like us once.

Nothing else made it onto their property, but we had a fair few decent encounters. Not enough to make us hard-ass Ving Rhameses, but we were getting there.

But our moment of truth came when finally all electricity went out. It had been two weeks and everyone's time of feigned normalcy was over.

Not that I expect things to remain as low-key as they were, but what happens really takes everyone by surprise. An uproar occurred. It wasn't as if walking bodies and dead relatives were enough. Whatever kept people close to home, is now forcing them to flee, and forcing them in the line of sight of those that are 7 days hungry.

I'm sure if we kept our heads on straight, we could have fought this out in our small town. A human can starve in days, and all we'd need to do was make sure that those who were infected, remained hungry.

Yeah, didn't work out, I guess.

And thus leads us to a busy night of honking horns, screaming voices and gunshots. I don't know whether to believe I'm in Compton or a wild rodeo.

"Shit!" I hear Edward's bear of a brother yell just as another round of fires set off. It's the dead of night and the second day without electricity.

We had all been sleeping upstairs, each in our own rooms and that meant I was in the guestroom. Edward's parents didn't hesitate to offer it to me even when Edward's younger sister Alice brought over her best friend Bella who was just as unfortunate as I was. She shares with Edward's sister - not that she minds.

All five of us rush downstairs, weapons handy. It surprises us to see Esme, Edward's mother standing by the window, staring out at the night, a candle in hand. It's fucking spooky how the light flickers, casting shadows over her blank face. It's pretty _8 Films to Die for_ and I consider poking her to see if she's alive. She finally turns to us and says to us in a pained gasp, "Carlise isn't home." If the house could be any more dead, it would be a surprise to me.

We all know what Carlisle Cullen does is dangerous. Meeting up in your colleague's secret lab to study the walking dead, trying to find a cure is a little too 1940s cult classic and less...productive, but like I said, _hope_ is still lasting in this apocalypse. But by the looks of it, not for long.

"What time is it?" Emmett asks and all of us at once, turn to the clock above the fireplace, still operating on a battery. In Alice's flashlight glare, we can see it's almost three. Great, the hour of the devil. I shudder, feeling stupid for being _a-scared_ of the devil when there's perfectly fitting zeds outside to feed on us.

As if reading my mind...or clearly not, Esme speaks, "I'm going to find him."

"Are you stupid?" Edward asks, but not in an appalled, scared way, but rather seriously. He really wants to know if his mother lost IQ points.

No one seems to mind his comment. He makes similar ones like that often.

"Mom," Alice squeaks, "Do you hear what's going on outside? Now that the electricity is out, people are going crazy." I disagree. People were already crazy. What is happening is a bit of sanity has finally hit them over their thick heads. They're stupid, that's all.

"We can't leave." Bella sounds scared. I know why. On the second day, Alice couldn't take not knowing if her friend was okay. She tried calling, but there were no answers. She had a fit trying to leave the house to find her. It was Emmett that finally agreed to take her to Bella's house.

They found her locked in the pantry as her father clawed at it to get to her. She refused to tell me anything more than that. But I already understood how fucked her situation was. And seeing her grip Alice's hands then and there, I know that no matter what happens, she's not going to want to be alone.

"I need to know if..." Esme chokes up. She has always been so gentle and sweet. I know this must be more of a nightmare for her than anyone else. She was just one of those people that believed no matter what, as long as you try, things will be okay. It's a pretty stupid and naive way of thinking, but it had always worked in her favor.

Until now, of course.

"Mom, let's wait a few hours."

"It may already be too late."

Edward snorts, "It's too late now." I glare at him. He _has_ to be scared that his father may be Monster Mashin' now.. He could have been bitten, or worse, shot by some scared nut.

Alice and Bella share a shudder and I see Edward's sister choke on a sob. I've never seen her cry before.

Esme is already walking towards the front door, before being grabbed by her big son.

"Mom, this isn't a good idea."

And for the second time that night, I'm surprised by something out of character for a Cullen, "I'm leaving and if that means fighting my way out, I will." Esme growls. It's efficient and scary. So much for peace in this house.

Emmett stares at her really hard, thinking to himself. I notice that he doesn't object. Whatever is going on with Carlisle, he's less safe than the rest of us. It makes no sense to leave and find him. Chances are he's dead. But what if he isn't?

I stare at Edward, watching his brows pinch in concentration. His lips are pursed and his eyes are hard. Even then, I can't picture doing this without him. If it was him out there, I would be in that car.

Emmett nods and I blink in surprise. He's letting her do this?

"I'm coming with you."

Edward growls, "This is stupid." But the comment is overshadowed by Alice's screech not to be left behind, "And what are Jasper and I? Bitches who can't handle anything? You're more safe here with us, Alice."

Alice glances over at her brother, "We shouldn't split up." it's a wise thing she says, but it doesn't make sense, because what they are about to do is incredibly stupid, no matter if it is something I'd be willing to do, "we're all safer together."

"No," Edward argued, "You're a burger, fries and coke, king sized and packaged in a nice BMW for _them_." Edward jerked his finger window.

Esme's eyes are glossy and her cheeks are wet, "I need to find him."

**xXx**

"They're dead."

"Don't say that!" I sound angry because I fucking am. How can he be so detached like this?

We haven't left the room. We're sitting there numbly, staring into the darkness. His mom, brother, sister and a very clingy Bella hopped in the car not even 30 minutes ago. Alice had pressed us to come, but we wouldn't have fit in the car, even if we wanted to.

"I'm going to wait for dad to get home." He said harshly, not sparing them a last glance. It could be the last time he was seeing them.

"Edward, I know this is hard-"

"Oh, don't give me that shit." Edward cuts me off, "It's not hard, it's idiotic. We're supposed to be smart about this."

"It's hard being smart when someone you care about is out there when this shit is going on."

"No one seemed to care when they had electricity, ammo and food. _Now_ they're scared?" He laughed humorlessly, "People are stupid. They were zombies before they were dead."

It's silent for a moment. I can't help but think back to Edward's favorite movie. The scene with the soldiers talking about the world returning to normalcy. I watch Edward as he stares into space, deep in thought. I know he wanted to finish his statement. He never fit in with his family. He always regarded them as shallow people trying to make themselves feel significant. He always used to say, "A twitter account can fix that problem." It was a dark joke, but he has always had a darker personality than most I knew.

The fucked up thing is that right here, I want to kiss him.

"Jazz." He finally speaks.

"Hmm?"

"Would you have left if it was me?" The question takes me by surprise. Edward never asks questions like these. Obviously this was bothering him more than he was letting on.

Before I can answer, there is a bang. We are both on our feet, exchanging wary glances.

Had Esme left the gate to the property open?

Edward is fingering the machete at his hip and I thankfully thought to bring down the berretta I usually slept with. We take slow, cautious steps, keeping our ears open for a sign of noise. We nearly jump in shock, hearing a few things knocked over in the family room before there is a very audible, very _living_ curse uttered.

We have not relaxed.

We both seen enough apocalypse movies to know that the dead were not the only things dangerous. Lifting my arms, preparing to have the intruder at a disadvantage, I turned the corner in the hall, catching a figure a few inches or so taller than I, hopping on one foot as he grumbled in pain.

"Who the _fuck_ puts a vase here," He says, but I don't let him think of an answer.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't blow your brains out." I sound threatening, but my insides are shaking. Edward keeps himself hidden. If this boy makes a run for it or tries something, there would be the element of surprise.

Not missing a beat, the boy answers, "You don't want to ruin this lovely décor?"

_Seriously? _"Why are you in here?"

"Look, I saw the gate open, assumed the house was empty like most of the others. I was literally chased by a pack of white lab coat fucks a mile down. I lost them in this last block and I figured I'd be safe here."

I only heard a few key words. _White, lab coats _and _gate open._

"Fuck!" I don't mean to sound so freaked out, but I can't help it. I turn back, walking from where this stranger came in. I stare out the open, front door, noticing the ajar, iron gate. Shit, am I supposed to close that? My knees know and I swallow thickly.

Fuck that.

I close the door.

"Whoa!" I hear. The intruder probably spotted Edward, "Hey, hey! No trouble, pal. Just trying to stay alive."

I walk back in to find Edward pointing his weapon at the taller boy, "Edward, it's okay."

"Yeah, _Edward_. I'm alive. You don't see me rigor mortin', do ya?" The boy stresses his name as if somehow that would calm him down. It only agitates him. The boy's hands go higher in surrender.

"Did you bring someone with you?" He asks. I roll my eyes. Edward is taking no chances, but thrusting a weapon in someone face doesn't help a situation any.

"No," The boy shook his head, "I'm alone, dudes. I came back here to find a friend, but she isn't home. Her dad is...and pretty fucking dead, I can tell you that..." He rants on.

"So you came to Forks to pick up a friend?" I ask.

He nods, "Well, she's more than a friend to me, but uh..." He clears his throat. He had no reason to be embarrassed with a blade in his face.

"Edward," I say again, this time more stern.

It takes a while, but he lowers the thick blade.

The boy finally lowers his arms and even in the dark, I can see a grin break out on his face, "Dude, is that a _machete_?"

**xXx**

"So my theory is that some of us are immune." The boy who not minutes ago introduced himself as Jacob spoke through the bread he was chewing, "Those who didn't get sick, when bitten, they won't turn either." The kitchen candles gives a natural glow to his brown skin. He is pretty fucking hot, but this was no time to be gay about it.

"I never heard of that." Edward has warmed to him, but only because Jacob made a joke reference to a Romero movie. It was like love at first nerdom.

"Yeah, that's because zombie movies never have a happy ending." Jacob snickers, "But trust me, there's an immunity."

"What's your proof?" I ask, watching him devour another slice of bread. He told us he hasn't eaten in two days. Judging by how quick he went through the last of the Campbell soup and stale bread, I believe him.

Without speaking, he lifts up a pinky...or what's left of it. He swallows the mouth load of bread before speaking, "The night I came into Forks, I was attacked by this zombie with massive, bruised tits. It was kind of hot and gross at the same time," He speaks lightly, recalling it as if this was some treasured High School story, "I was too busy checking out her cup size, so I didn't have time to move when she jumped on me. Thankfully, I was able to throw her off, but not before she bit off my finger."

Edward and I both lean back at the same time, causing Jacob to laugh.

"Don't worry, dudes, I'm completely fine," His shoulders shake in silent laughter, "I saw someone get bitten. The affects of the bite are quicker than that damn vaccine. It only takes an hour." He wipes his lips of bread crumbs, "Anyway, I closed the wound with a hot poker, so I should be fine. No doctor and all..."

"You don't feel sick?" I ask in amazement.

"Who me?" Jacob laughs, "Nah. I mean, it hurt like hell, but that's all." He gets up, looking through the pantry again, before I hear a bellow of delight, "Aww shit! Gushers!"

"Don't even think about it." Edward growls.

"Aw, come on. Just two?" Something about the way he looks over at Edward, puckering his lips out causes Edward to growl and turn away.

"Whatever."

"Sweet!" I hear him opening one of the closed boxes, before grabbing a pack or two. He doesn't hesitate, ripping one open and chucking the piece of heaven in his mouth, "Damn, I missed these. Me and a friend back at the rez use to eat these every fucking day. A balanced meal and all that shit." He chuckles.

A glint of humor sparks in Edward's eyes, "Is he 'immune' too?" Edward teases. We both freeze when we see Jacob hesitate in his answer.

"Funny that you mention it, he is…" We all exchange curious glances before Jacob cuts in, "Naaah. The chances of Gushers keeping us from getting sick…?"

But I don't let it go.

"I don't know." I shrug, "I mean, Edward here was interning at the hospital. And if you know anything about colds and viruses, the hospital is the worst place to be. He didn't catch anything. And my parents both were sick..."

Jacob nods solemnly, "I feel you there. My dad got sick and I'm pretty much around him all the time. Thank God he doesn't believe in western medicines, otherwise he'd be the only zombie wheelin' it." Jacob sighs, "I don't know if Bella got sick though."

"Bella?" Me and Edward say in unison. Jacob quirks an eyebrow in question.

"Bella, as in Bella Swan?" Edward asks. At this, the Gushers in Jacob's hand is forgotten.

"Please tell me you know where she is and that she's alright."

Edward hesitates and for the first time, he actually looks _bothered_ by our current situation, "She is staying here with us, but she left with my mom and brother and sister an hour ago to find my father."

Jacob's expression of hope, fades into disbelief before settling on fury, "That's _fucking_ STUPID!" He roars. He's not as massive as Edward's brother, but the look is pretty damn intimidating on him. His long silk looking hair fans out around him as he paces, "FUCK!" He shouts out, probably unsure on what to do now.

"Ditto." Edward says calmly.

We watch him pace a bit, both of us unsure what to say. Bella was the one he was looking for. The one he's in love with, I take it.

We're silent.

And that's how we hear it.

Movement in the back of the house.

Jacob freezes mid-step. Edward touches my arm, a communicative gesture for me to be at the ready. He lifts his chin at Jacob and mouths, "grab a weapon."

Jacob nods with alert eyes and picks up the first thing he sees.

A wooden spoon.

I give him a look of incredulity and he has the nerve to look offended, as if it was the smartest choice he made all night.

Just like an hour before, we're right back to gripping our weapons. I'm hoping it's another intruder as appealing as Jacob, but I highly doubt it. We don't get that kind of luck these days.

Our steps are painfully slow, our caution even more tormenting. I feel the anxiety creeping in my lungs, clutching and clenching my chest. This is a natural reaction, but also signs of a damn anxiety attack. I hate using this damned gun. I may have fired many in my day, but using it on a _human body_ is never awesome, no matter what joys I got out of it in _Left for Dead._ We hear the shuffling of paper and moving books from Carlisle's office and it's like a breath of relief. What was he doing here without letting us know what was up?

And in a fraction of a second, my relief turns to fear.

Carlisle would let us know he was here. This wasn't Carlisle.

But Edward isn't thinking this, "Shit, it's only my dad." He relaxes.

"Your dad?" Jacob asks with furrowed brows. He hasn't dropped the spoon yet. In fact, he's holding on to it even tighter than before, "The one everyone went looking for?" He's skeptical as I am that his father is actually _alive_ and here.

I watch Edward's face for any signs of understanding, but they're void of it. Right now, all it seems to be written in his eyes is relief that his dad is home. I swallow my sympathy and sadness. I'm finally seeing Edward in fear and it's not as I thought it would be. I don't want him to get hurt. He doesn't wait for us. He opens the door, I keep my gun at my side as well as Edward. I don't want him out of my sight.

Edward palms the study door open and me and Jacob prepare, arms slightly raised, breaths held.

We see the back of a white coat.

"Aww shit." Jacob swears and I know what we're seeing isn't what it should be.

Indeed it's Carlisle, facing away from us, hands clumsily moving paper, head bowed. Never in my life had I ever seen Edward's father without a proper posture or air of dignity to himself.

Right now, he looks...and the proper phrase would be "_Tow up, from the flo up."_ His coat is wrinkled, riddled with mud and what appears to be blood on the tail. His hair isn't rigidly styled as usual and judging by his stance, he's not exactly feeling like a 10.

"Dad, where have you been?" Edward asks and Jacob and I both make a move to pull him to us, but he is already in the study walking over to the desk his father is standing behind.

"Edward!" I whisper as if that would keep his father from hearing me, "That's not your dad!" I can't move. Whether because I'm scared or smart to stay behind is unknown to me. I don't want him to get hurt. I don't want him to be attacked. So instead I aim my gun at his father. If he even jerks, I'm pulling the trigger.

"Dad?" Edward's steps halter for a moment and he just stands there looking at his father, finally taking him in, "What happened?"

Carlisle isn't moving now. In fact, he knows he has company and I'm sure his muddled brain is trying to work how to turn around.

"Dad?" That seems to spark some movement. His father turns and both Jacob and I let out groans.

_Fuck._

"Aww this sucks!" Jacob voices next to me, "Come on man, that's not your dad."

Edward is standing between me and his father and I can't find a way to be sure I won't hit him if I pull the trigger.

But I can't move either.

_Fucking Fuck!_

"Edward!" I shout, "MOVE!" He doesn't, of course.

"Dad?" And it's a whimper.

Shit, I need to move.

"Edward, come on, man. Move your ass!" Jacob orders, looking not-so-threatening with his raised wooden spoon.

Edward turns to me, fear in his green eyes, "Jasper..." And I understand. When he held me that night, I knew like hell it bothered him that I had to go through that. Losing a parent like this. It's never a pleasant experience.

He finally understands.

But, fuck if it isn't too late.

"Edward!" I scream right as his father sneers, a new look to his face. His skin is a gray hue, his eyes are bloodshot and glassy. I see his fingers twitch, before he dives over the desk, grabbing Edward by the collar of his shirt.

I can't fire, because my aim isn't remarkable. So I do the only thing I can. I run in the room. I grab Edward by the hand, in order to pull him out his father's grasp.

This fucker is strong.

I'm closer now, so I lift the berretta, aiming it point blank at Carlisle, "Sorry, sir." I apologize. He's not all too pleased. His jaw opens as if it's dislocating from his skull and he lets out a throaty cry. I fire two shots in his cheekbone and his grip loosens on Edward.

Edward throws his arms around my neck, shaking from head to toe. I pet his soft hair, keeping him to me as I watch Carlise's twitching body. He's not completely through yet.

"Jacob," I call and jump when I feel his hand on my back, "Fuck, man, you acted quick."

I stroke the small of Edward's back as he digs his nose into my neck. Shit, I've never seen him like this. Jacob can read the worry on my face.

"He'll be fine." He assures me, "This shit doesn't look pretty on someone's psyche." He looks over to Carlisle. His body is twitching and writhing on the desk, "Hey, give me your gun." I offer it to him without a question.

"Take him out of the room." I nod, holding Edward as I attempt to walk in our embrace. We stop outside the room and I make to close the door, but am distracted when I hear movement and Jacob cursing.

"Fuck, Jasper, he's up!" I don't have time to grab Edward and run. It's too soon when I hear Edward's wail of pain. My eyes widening, seeing Carlisle right there, gritty and bruised, blood oozing from his cheek as he bites into his son's shoulder.

"EDWARD!" I know I'm shaking the house with my screams. I have no weapon now. My gun is in Jacob's hand, his machete dropped somewhere in the study. I don't know what to do and fuck, it's too late! I can't handle seeing Edward change. I can't see him lose his life.

I just can't. I don't think it's possible to do this without him.

Like a savior from heaven, I see Jacob's hand close around Carlisle's arm and with a loud grunt, there's a cracking squelching noise before Carlisle's eyes roll to the back of his head and he crumples to the floor. I catch Edward just as he follows his father's weight.

Jacob is panting, eyes heated in fury as we all watch pool of blood flood out from the wound inflicted by the wooden spoon. Jacob's eyes meets mine and although he isn't smug, I can tell he thinks himself smart to bring a blunt object as a weapon.

"Jasper," Edward says my name and my stomach ties in knots. Fuck, his bite.

"Jacob, shit!" I cry, noticing the rip in Edward's shirt, a dark stain growing on his shoulder.

"Give me a minute." Jacob mumbles and walks back into the study. I watch with wide eyes as he leaves me with Edward in my arms.

"You'll be okay." I chant, combing his blood matted hair away from his forehead as I kept him upright with my arm tucked under his armpit, his head resting on my chest.

"You know what you have to do, Jazz." He whispers.

"I have to clean your wound, make sure it doesn't get infected." There is a soft laughter under me and my eyes water.

Shit, this wasn't suppose to happen.

"That's why you sucked at _Left for Dead_." He jokes lightly, "Always trying to play hero."

I feel the sad smile, tracing my lips as I think back to those days locked in his bedroom as he tried to force me to play those fucking games. They use to scare the shit out of me, but they damn sure came to good use, "I always saved you, didn't I?"

"Yeah," He answers, "only to risk your own life."

"Edward-" I want to say everything I have been hiding all these months before hell found a nice estate on Earth. I want to say those words, tell him that I always loved him. Who the fuck cares what was happening now, who died and who was living? He just needs to know he's well loved and always has been.

"You never answered my question." He cut me off.

"What question?"

"If it was me, would you have left?"

If I am going to tell him I love him, it makes no sense to avoid answering this honestly, "Yes."

His nose presses into my neck again and my whole body is on fire when his lips puckers against my neck. I shut my eyes tight, tears are tickling behind my lids but I don't to let them go in fear of him leaving me as well.

_Apocalypses never have happy endings._

"Step back, Jasper." Jacob whispers and I open my eyes only to be faced with Edward's machete in his hands.

"Jacob, no!" I protest, "What the _fuck_ are you doing?"

Jacob shrugs sadly, "Come on, Edward."

Edward nods, pulling away from me, but I hold on to him tighter, "I'm not letting you do this." I say to both of them.

"It's the only way, Jazz." Edward looks up at me with determined eyes. It's the Edward I know. The nonchalance is there, but there is something else. The way he's looking at me now... I feel like the world is ending all over again.

"Don't leave me." I plead, but he turns his head away, pulling his body away from me.

Jacob takes the opportunity to rip Edward's shirt off his shoulders, revealing the wound. I watch, my legs shaking as he lifts the blade on it's flat side. In fear, I cupped Edward's cheek, urging him to face me.

"Edward," I start when he turns his beautiful eyes on me. I feel like a child or a little girl. I never cry in front of Edward, but here I am, a blubbering mess. I open my mouth to say it, but he beats me to the punch.

"I love you." and then, "AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKER!" There is a loud, hiss when the flat of the blade touches Edward's open wound. I smell alcohol and notice in Jacob's free hand is a bottle of whisky Carlisle kept in his study when days got rough. I blink at the sight before me. Jacob wasn't going to kill Edward, he was sealing his wound like he had to do to himself days before.

"Baby." He mumbles when Edward jerked his shoulder away.

"Why did you-" Edward looks at his shoulder in shock, then looks at me. He thought he was a goner too.

"Fuck, look," Jacob shook his head, "We can't be sure that you'll...you know," Jacob shrugs, "Your boyfriend here said you worked at a hospital. I'm surprised you're not a twitching stink meat like the rest of them. We'll give you a half hour, if you start looking rough around the edges then, well..."

"You'll leave me." Edward nods, "okay."

"I'm not leaving you." I speak up.

Edward sighs, "Jasper-"

"I'm not. I don't care what happens Edward. I need to be with you."

Jacob cocks his head at us, "How romantically gay," He comments, "Now, if you're done here, let's get ready to go. Everything is peachy back at the rez. I only came here to grab Bella and leave, but..."

"They can still be alive." I whisper. I hope they are.

"Right." Jacob mumbles, "Well, I saw you guys had another car in the drive-way. Maybe we can use that to look around for them before heading back to my home. But first, we'll need to stock up on shit."

"You're taking us with you?" I ask, not letting it escape either of us that if I go, Edward goes.

Jacob shrugs, "Yeah sure." He pockets a lighter that he must've used to heat the machete before speaking again, "If Edward turns, I'll just kick both of you out the car." He doesn't stick around. He walks back to the kitchen, ready to pull some more food out.

That leaves Edward and I alone, "You'll have to leave me, Jazz. I need you to be taken care of and Jacob is perfect for that." He averts his eyes, "I don't want to put you at risk."

"I'm at risk without you." I declare. He isn't standing so well on his own two feet and I know this is because of the scare of nearly getting killed by his father. My legs are shaky as well, but I support him again, "You're going to be okay."

"You can't be sure." He challenges, but lifts his eyes to meet mine. I can see gratitude in them. Edward has never been easily grateful about anything his whole entire life. His joy was making things difficult for everyone, myself included. My mind wanders to our short time living in the dingy apartment. It feels like years ago. I had been hiding my feelings from him, seeing _alive_ people everyday.

This is like another world.

But not the end of it.

I lean in, pressing my lips to his in a soft kiss, hoping that if this is our last hour together, he'd leave me with this gift. He gives in, parting his lips with a subtle moan and for the first time I'm exchanging a intimate contact with the only person I ever needed it from.

"I'm not leaving you." I vow. And this time he doesn't argue. I help him to the kitchen where he sits at the island.

Jacob has already successfully stacked food into a box. He tosses us familiar, green packets, "Eat up, boys!" I catch both Gushers packets, handing one to Edward, "Gotta keep our immunities up." I silently thank Jacob for having hope.

One thing the Cullens were smart enough to have.

"We have a long journey ahead of us."


End file.
